


Desert

by greatveiledbear



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Gen, Getting Help, Implied Time Travel Shenanigans, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Sad with a Happy Ending, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, there's some pretty heavy stuff guys please take care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 01:22:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12783879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greatveiledbear/pseuds/greatveiledbear
Summary: "Hey, Cav, I need a favor."Or: Dakota reaches his breaking point.





	Desert

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone on discord who assuaged my insecurities about this one <3

“Hey, Cav, I need a favor.”

Cavendish looks up from the report he’s trying to write. Dakota closes the door of their small office and leans against it. He looks unusually serious.

Cavendish puts down his pen and rubs his forehead. “I don’t have time for favors, Dakota. I have this report to finish--” _another mission failure, can’t do anything right_ \-- “and I have to run errands and go over our notes--” _what’s the point_ \-- “to see what we can do better next time--” _what does it matter, I’ll always fail_ \-- “and--”

“It’s not something I need today, don’t worry.” Dakota waves his hand. “It’s a tomorrow favor. But it’s really important.”

A tomorrow favor. Cavendish’s heart falls. He’s going to let Dakota down yet again, because he’s not planning on being here tomorrow. He’s had the plan for weeks, had actually planned to do it earlier, but somehow he hasn’t had time. Dakota is always there, barging in at the wrong moment and refusing to leave Cavendish alone until the time was wrong again. He somehow keeps showing up before Cavendish can even take the pills out of the drawer, wrecking his plans and forcing him to continue dragging himself along, continue existing, continue failing. 

The horrible irony is that Cavendish knows, he _knows_ Dakota will be better off without him. Without Cavendish’s dead weight dragging him down, Dakota will finally be able to advance in the bureau, get a competent, attractive partner and have the life he deserves. Dakota is only getting in his own way by stopping Cavendish from killing himself. He’s only hurting both of them.

Well. A tomorrow favor. What’s one more broken promise?

He sighs and picks up his pen again. “What do you need?” 

“I need you to call a doctor and get some goddamn therapy.” 

Cavendish looks up. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t keep doing this,” says Dakota. It’s the most serious Cavendish has ever seen him. “I know how depressed you are, okay? I’ve known for weeks. I’ve been trying to protect you, doing everything I can, but I can’t be with you every second and it scares me.” He drags his hand over his face. “I can’t--it’s bad enough to--” He cuts himself off. “I need you to get some help,” he finally continues. “Please. I can’t--I don’t want to lose you, and I can’t keep you alive on my own.” 

Cavendish can feel his heartbeat in his chest, thumping hollowly against his sternum. This was the last thing he expected. He didn’t think Dakota knew. 

He looks down, staring at the words on the page in front of him without taking them in. How can he explain this to his partner? How can he make Dakota understand that yes, he’ll miss Cavendish for a little while, but soon he’ll realize he’s better off without him? 

Cavendish realizes he’s planned this all wrong. He should have distanced himself from Dakota first, drifted away from everyone until no one cared any more. But he couldn’t bear to do that. Dakota was the one luxury he let himself have, the one good thing he clung to and didn’t push away. He loves Dakota, loves him enough that it almost makes him want to try, if only because it’s Dakota asking him to. 

He hates Dakota for it, a little bit. It’s like Cavendish has been dragging himself through a desert filled with absolute nothingness for the last few months, and he’s finally on the verge of getting out, finding water, finding _anything_ , and Dakota is asking him to turn around and walk back into the scorching sand. 

A hand covers his on the report and Cavendish looks up. Dakota’s eyes are worried behind his sunglasses. “Please,” he says quietly. 

Cavendish closes his eyes and swallows. “I can’t promise anything,” he whispers.

“You can. I need you to. _Please_.” Dakota’s hand curls tight around Cavendish’s long fingers. “I will do whatever you need me to to keep you alive, Cav. But I need you to try.” 

Cavendish wants to say no.

But how long has Dakota been struggling to keep him alive? Suddenly the clinginess, the way Dakota won’t leave him alone on bad nights, makes sense. He means something to Dakota, he realizes, and it suddenly penetrates where before it was just a cognitive thought. He means something. He can always go back to the plan later, if this doesn’t work. But after all the effort Dakota’s put in for him, Cavendish owes it to him at least to try. 

It’s Dakota. What else is he going to do? 

He takes a deep breath as the promise of water and anything slips away. “I can’t wait for tomorrow,” he says, his voice cracking. “Will you go with me to the hospital?”


End file.
